Temporary Assignment Duty
by CanadianChick07
Summary: Nell is sent to Afghanistan for six weeks on a project with NATO. What does this mean for her and Callen's relationship and the team as their favorite Intel Anaylst is gone? And how will Afghanistan change Nell?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: It's May. And snowing. So I am baking cookies and this idea for a story came into my mind. From the ideas forming inside of my head, it's going to be split between Nell in Afghanistan and the rest of the team back in Los Angeles.  
This story goes along with my other Nallen fics (Nell's family will be in this a little bit), "Just an Act" and "Unanswered Prayers."  
**

Intelligence Analyst Nell Jones stood in front of her boss and waited for the paper that would turn her life upside down for six weeks. There was a deep breath taken and the nervousness in Nell's body language was apparent.

"I'm not sending you off to Antarctica," Hetty smiled. When Hetty had approached her four days ago and asked if Nell had any impending plans for next week, she knew she was being asked to do something or go somewhere. Nell liked routine, structure and she was perfectly happy here. Yet, she craved for more opportunities and she knew Hetty wouldn't disappoint. She also knew that where ever Hetty was sending her, didn't offer what she had here but she was willing to push boundaries and she wanted to.

Nell nervously smiled. Couldn't Hetty just get it over with! "I didn't think so, Hetty."

"Afghanistan. SecNav has asked I send an intelligence analyst that I trust to there, for a temporary project for NATO. You were on my short list."

Nell wasn't sure what to think anymore. Really, she was flattered. She really was. But Clayton Jarvis was asking for her? That didn't make her feel good. "And what did Clayton Jarvis say when you approached him with my name?"

"He assured me that any personal feelings between you two wouldn't be a problem. I am going to assume that is your thought as well?"

She nodded. "Absolutely."

"Good. You leave tomorrow. There will be a ride outside your apartment waiting to pick you up," Hetty replied. "Go get packed," she told the young analyst and Nell took that as her cue to leave.

* * *

Nell walked into Ops, still clutching the paper that held her itinerary. She was going to Afghanistan? "Where'd you go?" Eric asked her, not looking up from the computer.

"Hetty just needed to talk to me," Nell explained.

Eric finally turned around. "You look like you saw a ghost. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Um, I'm going to leave. I need to run some errands for Hetty," Nell quickly said and walked out of Ops, without explaining to Eric what was happening. She didn't really feel she could explain it that well to her partner. She'd leave that up to Hetty.

Nell was on her way out when Hetty stopped her. "Miss Jones," Hetty instructed her. Nell cautiously walked over to where Hetty sat in her office. "Keep your wit sharp, your heart opened and your gun loaded," the older woman smiled at Nell.

"I will, Hetty," Nell replied and walked out of the Ops center. Six weeks, she told herself. It was only six weeks. What could go wrong?

As Nell walked out of Ops, Callen couldn't help but feeling a little…. He couldn't pin the feeling that was in his stomach. It wasn't one that he really had ever. So he cautiously walked over to Hetty's desk. "Anything you want to tell me?"

Hetty looked up from her laptop. "No."

Callen settled into the chair. "Nell. Is this a Nate thing?"

"No. Why would you say so?"

"Because I heard you tell her the exact thing you said to Nate. So where did you send her?"

Hetty closed her laptop. "Did I tell you where Nate was going?"

"No."

"Did I tell you where Renko was?"

"No."

"So what makes you think, Mr. Callen, that I will tell you where Miss Jones is?"

Callen chuckled. "You sure do keep your cards close to your chest, Hetty."

"I've been told I have a killer poker face."

* * *

Nell has a suitcase spread out in front of her. Unfortunately she hadn't packed a damn thing. Six weeks. Afghanistan. NATO. Dear God, what did she get herself into? She on her bed and sighed and looked over at the suitcase. She was leaving this life for one that has no promises she'd return home alive. Okay, that was an exaggeration. But it was Afghanistan and nothing was guaranteed. Absolutely nothing.

Callen had let himself in with the key that he had and leaned against the door frame, watching Nell think. He had a good feeling she was being sent to a war torn country, because where else would she go? She had the skills and abilities and it was needed. "Having troubles packing?"

She looked up, startled. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Couple seconds. Enough to know that you don't know what to pack."

Nell stood up and looked at the empty suitcase. "I've never been to Afghanistan. I… I don't know what to wear. What to do. God."

Callen stood behind Nell and placed a kiss on the top of her head. "You'll be fine."

"I just don't know what to expect."

"Expect the unexpected."

"I don't do that kind of stuff, you know that," Nell turned around to face Callen. There were lines of worry written all over her face.

Callen smiled. "You worry too much."

Nell broke away from his grasp and sat on the edge of the bed. The red walls in her bedroom were a reminder of what she was leaving behind. Six weeks, she told herself again. It wasn't a goodbye forever. It was only temporary. "Yeah."

"Hetty didn't send you on this, did she?"

Nell shook her head. "Officially, I'm on a temporary assignment duty to NATO."

Callen nodded, leaning against a wall. "Officially, who asked you?"

"SecNav."

Callen nodded again. "Your father's best friend."

Nell shrugged. "When Hetty gave him my name as a possibility, he assured me that our personal relationship would not be a problem."

"And for you?"

"It won't be a problem."

Callen looked at the woman in front of him. "You're worried about something."

"For… for the first time, I'm worried that people are going to look at me as General Gregory Jones' daughter, not Intelligence Analyst Nell Jones."

Callen smiled. "Nell, you are who you are. They'll figure it out."

"I hope so."

"Come on. Your last night on the town. I'll take you out for dinner," Callen tempted her and Nell was about to say no but what the hell. She looked at him and decided maybe it was just better to stay in. But they could do all those extracurricular activities later.

Nell flashed a smile at the agent. "Since you're so convincing, maybe."

They had a great dinner at Moxie's and Nell was glad she let Callen convince her to go out tonight. She needed to get her mind off her impending travel plans tomorrow. And the dinner was exactly what it did. Although, Nell wanted to get back to her apartment. Badly.

Callen watched, amused, as Nell kept throwing item after item in. He didn't take her as the messy type of packer, such as say, Kensi, but she was. She knew how to stuff items in her suitcase that Callen would have given up hope in taking. After an hour of packing, she knew she had everything ready. She was ready as she could ever be.

He stood up to leave, as he hadn't stayed the night at Nell's before, except on the couch. Sure, they had a pretty good sex life, but they just hadn't gotten to the stage of him staying at her place, even though he had a key for it. "I guess this is goodbye."

"No. Stay," Nell looked at him, with those hazel eyes he couldn't resist. In any way.

"Are you sure?" Callen asked.

Nell looked him in the eye. "If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't be asking."

That was all the invitation Callen needed to close the gap between him and Nell. He slowly kissed her and to his surprise, it was Nell who got things heated fast. She kissed him with a desire he hadn't felt before. And he returned that kiss right back. Soon enough, clothes were chucked to random parts of the room and neither one of them really cared where the articles of clothing landed. They were focused on each other and only each other.

* * *

Nell woke up the next morning and was a little surprised to see Callen still in bed with her. She had heard from Sam what a horrible sleeper he was and she did believe it and often wondered how he managed to function on so little sleep. Callen rolled over and tucked a little piece of stray hair behind her ear. "Good morning," he said, in a husky voice.

"Morning," she said a little tired. She really did need more sleep than she got last night.

"You're thinking," Callen observed.

She sighed and got herself into a position where she was leaning on her elbows. "I was just thinking it's normally you leaving and going away for sometimes short periods of time or sometimes longer. I never thought it would be me."

"I didn't really either," Callen replied, honestly. "But you have an amazing opportunity ahead of you and I know you're going to do an excellent job at it." He left that comment with a kiss and thought he really would miss her for six weeks. It would be a hard six weeks on both of them.


	2. Chapter 2

Eric walked into Ops the next morning and was surprised, no shocked, that his partner, Nell Jones, wasn't sitting at a computer. She always beat him to work, partly because being on time wasn't his best suit and he always surfed in the morning. She had acted strange after she had seen Hetty yesterday and then just took off. He didn't think much of it, but now that he thought about it today. It was weird.

He walked downstairs, none of the agents were there, but Hetty was. "Hetty, what's going on?"

Hetty looked up at him. "Nothing, Mr. Beale. When the agents come in, I will explain everything. At once," Hetty explained. Eric knew that was his time to be dismissed so he walked upstairs.

They had a new case so he worked on what he could, but it was really weird without Nell there. Like… really weird. At first, he had been opposed to her coming. Now he really missed her. Personally and professionally. She was damn good at her job and she was a damn good friend.

Kensi, Deeks, Sam and Callen all came into be briefed and all of them, with the exception of Callen, looked at Eric weird. "Where's Nell?" Kensi finally asked.

Hetty chose her moment to come in. "TAD."

"TAD?" Deeks asked, very confused. "I don't really know military terms."

"Temporary Assignment Duty," Sam explained. "Where, Hetty?"

Hetty looked at Sam. "I don't think where is necessary. It's a short term assignment, six weeks. Until then, I have arranged for Miss Walsh to be filling in for her."

"Miss Walsh have a first name?" Deeks asked.

She chose that moment to walk in. "Baylee Shayne," a tall blonde answered. All of them were taken aback at the woman who stood in front of them. Kensi figured she was at least 5' 10'', wore jeans, red tank top that displayed an impressive half sleeve tattoo and had wore her blonde hair straight. "But Baylee works."

"You're the new replacement for Nell?" Sam echoed all thoughts around the room. No way. Nell looked like an intelligence analyst; however Baylee Shayne Walsh did not. She looked like she belonged on a beach in Los Angeles, certainly not NCIS. Sam was thinking what everybody was thinking in the room, what the hell was she doing in here? She did not look like she had the qualifications. And he hoped this wasn't another Lauren Hunter, Hetty's "choice" as a replacement, and Hetty's new choice to replace Nell was a lot more compentent than Hunter was at her job. However, just on looks alone, Baylee didn't look like an Intel Analyst. Sam was smart and he already had his money on the fact that Hetty wanted her for a lot more than just her job description.

Baylee smiled. "Maybe I should rephrase. Captain Baylee Walsh, United States Army, Defence Intelligence Agency. Now, I don't want to be rude, but who are you guys?"

Sam took a deep breath and figured he'd make introductions, since Hetty had slipped out like a ninja, leaving a giant elephant in the room. The elephant being Baylee. "Agents Sam Hanna, Kensi Blye, G Callen," Sam said pointing to each agent. "LAPD Detective Marty Deeks and your new partner, Eric Beale."

Baylee nodded at all members. "Since we're all here, what'd ya got?" She pointed that question towards Eric, who looked really surprised at her boldness.

He took his tablet and put up a few pictures of a man and a woman. "Um, meet Victor Tishenko and Natasha Cheniskiov."

Baylee just ran her hand over her face and sighed deeply. Sam and Kensi both looked at her weird. "Want to share, Captain?" Callen asked, with an edge to his tone. He did not like the fact that an Army Captain was taking Nell's place. Much less, she seemed to recognize the pictures in front of her.

"Continue, Eric," Sam instructed him, after Baylee didn't want to share.

"Victor Tishenko was found dead on the Santa Monica Pier this morning with a bullet to the head. Conveniently, all cameras in the area were not working," Eric explained.

"Pro hit," Kensi summed up.

Eric hit a button a surveillance video from LAX popped up. "He was traveling with this woman, Natasha Cheniskiov. I think it's an alias because I can't find anything on her. And it's good, because these days , it's almost impossible to not trace an alias. She's got connections."

"That's because it is an alias," Baylee said. "Her real name is Katya Belyakov."

"Of the Belyakov family?" Sam asked.

Deeks looked confused. "Who's that?"

"One of the head crime families in Russia," Callen answered. "But, perhaps Captain Walsh can fill everybody in, since she knows something."

Baylee glanced at Callen and then at Sam. "I can share what's not classified."

"We have the clearance," Sam reassured her.

"I know. First of all, what are we supposed to do about Tishenko's murder and Katya? Very pro hit which doesn't leave a lot of clues and I'm sorry to say, but getting close to the Belyakov family is extremely hard. Make your case iron clad before even attempting to apprehend her. They also have the best lawyers money can buy. And I'm willing to bet Tishenko was Katya's bodyguard."

Eric piped up. "Director Vance wants her well, taken care of."

"Is that a go ahead for a political assassination?" Deeks asked.

"The United States doesn't authorize assassinations. It's against the Geneva Convention," Baylee answered.

Callen stood up straight and stood toe to toe with Baylee. "Are you on our side or the Belyakov family's? Because you seem to know a lot about them and I'm wondering if you're secretly in bed with them."

Baylee burst out laughing and Callen took a step back. "I am definitely not in bed with any members of that family. I'd be awfully stupid to."

"So how do you know so much?" Callen asked.

Everyone in the room didn't make a single sound. They were wondering how to the newest member of their team would take to a challenge from Callen. Her answer would determine how she stood in this team. "I'm the DIA. I know things."

Callen glanced at her and then at Sam and back to Baylee. "You're NCIS now, share what you got."

Baylee sighed. "I don't have the authorization to. Unless I have confirmation, I can't share what I know. It's classified. I don't know if the word classified means anything to you, Agent Callen, but to me, it means I can't share information with you. Because it's classified."

"You're all the same. Even though you're Army, you're still a bureaucrat at heart," Callen fired back.

Hetty stepped in the room to keep the firework show at bay between her Senior Agent and her newest Intelligence Analyst. "Stop it. This is not the time for verbal sparring. Miss Walsh, you now have the authorization to tell everybody what you know about the Belyakov family." Hetty stood by the door and waited for Baylee to start. She had Captain Walsh under her microscope for a long time, before she became DIA. Her value went up in stock when she became an Intel Analyst. Truthfully, Hetty didn't just want her as Nell Jones' temporary replacement; she wanted her as an Agent. And this would be a good test to see how she fit in. Hetty had figured the tough Army Captain would come to blows with her Senior Agent; she just didn't figure it would be within five minutes.

Baylee sighed. "I don't have the information in front of me, so what I'm telling you, is off the top of my head. Katya Belyakov is married to the Russian Finance Minister, Alex Gorshkov; she's also the daughter of the head of the Belyakov family, Andrei and his wife, Natalya. They first started out as dealers of black market goods. If you wanted it, they could get it. And then they went into diamonds. Semi legit too. When Katya took over, they started doing a little more off the books transactions. So if you were a power or electric company and looking to get in with the government, you called the Belyakov family. They could make that contract happen. They're also very wealthy."

"How though?" Deeks asked.

Hetty interjected. "Because they know where the bodies are buried. Probably because they are the ones who buried them."

"They will also be the go between person if you wanted to put a hit out on somebody. They would make that person disappear."

"So how does one contact the Belyakov family?" Kensi asked. "Is this another Comescu family?

"Let's not get into that," Hetty got them all back on track. "And yes, this family, is just as dangerous and has the connections as the Comescu family. I'm sure they have worked together at one point or another. However, our primary target is getting Katya Belyakov before she leaves Los Angeles and preferably the United States."

"One question. How does a DIA analyst know so much about something that should fall under CIA jurisdiction?" Callen asked. That was the million dollar question that was bugging him. DIA was military intelligence and the Belyakov case fell out of the purview of DIA, and more into CIA territory. Obviously the family had something to do with military, or DIA wouldn't be involved.

Baylee shrugged. "Not a story I intend on telling you, Agent Callen."

* * *

Nell stood inside the NATO office in Brussels, Belgium. It was huge and she was impressed. However, she was exhausted. It was a non-stop military flight in a C-17 from Los Angeles to Ramstein Air Base in Germany and then another flight from Ramstein onto Brussels. A worker from NATO had picked her up and driven her here.

Someone approached her and Nell knew that must be her new boss. "Major Ken Ellis. Nell Jones?" He stuck out his hand and she shook it.

"I would be Nell Jones."

"I appreciate Miss Lange loaning you out for this project."

Nell smiled. "Well I am flattered that I was chosen."

"You're also General Gregory Jones' daughter."

Nell's smile disappeared from her face. "You looked in my personnel file."

Major Ellis shrugged. "Guilty. I wanted to see who SecNav was sending me. Color me surprised when I found out who is your daddy."

"Sir, I didn't get to this position because of family favours or who my father is. I got here because I'm damn good. So please, can we both forget that my father is General Jones, because I fail to see how this relates to how I do my job."

Major Ellis crossed his arm and a smile formed. "I think we'll get along great, Miss Jones."

Nell was glad to know that she had made an impression on the imposing man. "I'm glad to be working for you."

"I realize that you must be utterly exhausted so I'll have someone drive you to your hotel and then we can get started at 08 00 tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Nell replied. She saw her driver out of the corner of her eye. "I'll see you tomorrow." And she started to walk his direction. She was exhausted.

The first thing Nell did when she got to the hotel was change into sweat pants and turn on the TV. And then she realized the news was in a language she didn't understand at all. She spoke fluent Spanish and Portuguese, but she didn't understand any of the three official languages spoken in Belgium- French, Dutch and German. She thought about Skyping with Eric to tell him she made it safely but she was way too tired to do that. Instead, she opened up her laptop, connected to the wireless in the hotel, and emailed Eric and Callen at once. The simple message said: **Made it. Nell. **And then she collapsed asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Nell woke up the next morning and panicked for a minute. This was definitely not her room. Beige was not the colour of her walls. And this bed was a hell of a lot harder than her bed at home. And then she remembered. She was in a hotel in Brussels, Belgium. And she needed to get a head start on the day. A sleepy look at the clock told her it was 06 00 and Nell was flat out exhausted. She wasn't sure if it was from the jet lag, or if jet lag only worked one way, or the sheer amount of time she spent on an airplane yesterday.

And there would be more time spent on an airplane. She was going to head over to the NATO headquarters, get briefed, read in and whatever else she needed to do, and then she would be getting on a plane to fly to Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan. She was a little nervous because she really didn't know what to expect. At all. But she told herself she was a highly trained Intelligence Analyst, she could figure the shit out.

Nell headed for the shower and she was grateful for the hot water to pound on her body and get rid of all the knots that sitting in a military plane and then sleeping in a hard bed, created. And she stood under the jet for a little longer than she normally did because she had a feeling this might be one of the longer, hotter showers she would have in the next six weeks, since she was living on an Air Base.

She got dressed and first she put on a sundress, like she was going to work in Los Angeles. And then she thought that might not be practical for a military flight. So she put on jeans and a grey top, with a black cardigan. She glanced at the clock and realized she had enough time for the continental breakfast that the hotel provided. She knew there was food inside the NATO headquarters but she desperately needed coffee. Good thing she was traveling with a bunch of Marines, because she heard they liked their coffee, so she was in good company. And if the Marines she was working with were anything like her military family, the coffee would be flowing all day.

It was another half hour later and Nell stood inside the NATO headquarters. Her driver, who finally introduced himself as Mario, guided her to Major Ken Ellis' office. Ken then proceeded to hand out ID cards and she filled out the much dreaded paperwork. Finally, after all the office stuff that needed to be done, she was in a room surrounded with a lot of computers and a lot of analysts.

Major Ellis stood at the head of a large table, much similar to the one up at Ops. Around him were his team, which he introduced. "Jason Statham of Homeland Security, Captain Rob Anderson, USMC, Army Lieutenant Jenelle Abraham, Canadian Forces Captain Mitch Kramer, Petty Officer 1st class Amelia Van derGuilk, Gunny Sergeant Kyle Little and Becky Davis, NSA," he pointed to everyone in the room and Nell made a point to memorize everybody's faces and names. "Everyone, meet NCIS Intel Analyst Nell Jones."

"Well at least you aren't FBI," Gunny Little said and Nell had to smile a little. She knew all about the FBI and them trying to have jurisdiction on cases that fell under NCIS. Interagency turf wars were always bad. "Glad to have you on board."

Nell smiled warmly at the welcome. She could feel that she would get along with these people quite well. After all, they did speak the same "language" as her, when it came to processing and reviewing sources and intelligence. "So, what do I need to know before we get on the plane for Afghanistan?"

Lieutenant Jenelle Abraham took the clicker thingy and a picture of a man appeared on the big screen. Nell turned to face the screen; it was much like their set up in Ops. The man appeared to be dressed quite nicely and professionally and in a suit that cost more than Nell made in a month. "Interpol Agent Luke Winston."

Another popped up on the screen. This one of a red haired female who had sparking green eyes and wore a ton of makeup. It was only a headshot so Nell couldn't see what she was wearing. Captain Anderson spoke this time. "And this is CIA Agent Hope Lomheim."

"I'm getting the feeling that I was brought in as SecNav's eyes for this project," Nell observed.

Major Ellis laughed. Oh he liked this one. He automatically got the impression that she had a strong distaste for her father, which Major Ellis and her held the same opinion of General Jones. And she was not afraid to speak her mind. Yeah, she'd fit in pretty good. The team he had managed to wrangle together were definitely a bunch of misfits but they worked well together. "You're good, Jones. Let's just say that the powers that be would rather is mess cleaned up quietly and quickly."

"What mess? All you've told me is names? And Interpol and CIA Agents never scream good news," Nell quickly fired back. She had worked alongside a couple CIA agents and yup, they were just as crooked as the politicians in Washington. She avoided the CIA at all costs; however, at her job it wasn't always possible. And some people at Langley didn't really like Nell Jones either.

"They are suspected of working together with the Taliban," Becky Davis said. Nell just looked at the NSA agent. Oh this could be one hell of a ride she was working on. Taliban + a rouge Interpol agent + rouge CIA agent = panic attack in Washington.

A techie turned from her computer. "The Secretary of the Navy is wanting to do a conference call. Specifically requested Major Ellis and a Nell Jones?"

Major Ellis nodded. "Go ahead. Everyone else, get your shit ready. Wheels are up in 90 minutes."

The Secretary of the Navy, Clayton Jarvis, appeared on the screen. "Major Ellis, Nell. You got to Brussels okay, Nell?"

Nell nodded at the SecNav. God she hated this man. "I did, Mr. Secretary."

"Nell, between you and I, it's okay if you call me Clay." Nell thought for a minute and was so confused. It contradicted everything about Clay. Even her father and Clay spoke in terms of "General Jones" and "Mr. Secretary", not Greg and Clay when they were in public. Why was Clay telling her to call him by his first name?

Nell sighed. "Absolutely, Clay." She put the emphasis on the Clay part, just to piss him off. She knew she really shouldn't be pissing off the SecNav, but hell, he owed her a favor or two over the past few years. He had returned the favor one time, by writing her a reference letter for Princeton. But as far as Nell was concerned, Clay owed her another favor after making her his eyes inside this investigation and trying to find out what was really going on with Luke Winston and Hope Lomheim.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Major Ellis leave the room, and for that she was really grateful. Nobody needed to see a personal pissing match between the SecNav and an Intel Analyst. "Anna, I requested Hetty send an analyst she trusted because I trust Hetty. And I need eyes and ears in this stupid mess. This needs to be resolved quickly and I have the best people working on this. We cannot have rogue agents working for the Taliban!"

Nell bit her lip as she debated on how to respond. "First of all, Mr. Secretary, nobody calls me by Anna or Anna-Marie, other than my father or my mother. And second, am I here because of my personal relationship with you? Or am I here because of my skills? To be truthful, Mr. Secretary, I am really hoping it is the latter."

"Both," SecNav reassured her. "I only have a second more, but I hope Afghanistan goes well for you and I am positive you will keep me in the loop. And your father says to say hello and he sends his love."

Nell laughed. "Clay, I'm not sure I can send along my regards with you for my father. Now, if you'll excuse me, Mr. Secretary, I need to get on a plane soon. I will keep you informed." With that, the video call was off and Nell exhaled loudly. A video call with the SevNav wasn't exactly how she envisioned or wanted her day to start with. She could go awhile without seeing Clayton Jarvis.

Canadian Forces Captain Mitch Kramer was leaning against the doorframe. "You seem to have quite a bit of personal history with the Secretary of the Navy," Mitch commented, emphasis on the Secretary of the Navy.

Nell groaned. Great. As if she needed more people to know about her private and personal life. Much less people she didn't know. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to get a good picture. How long you known SecNav?"

Nell shrugged as Mitch came down the steps to where Nell was standing. "Since I was born. And if you think I got to where I am because of personal favorites, you're wrong."

"You said it, not me."

Nell raised an eyebrow. "What do you want?"

"I'll keep an eye on you over there," Mitch replied.

Nell's jaw dropped. "I have a boyfriend. I can take care of myself."

His eyebrows were raised. "I didn't mean it like that. Look, Afghanistan is a lot different than Belgium or Los Angeles. A white female who's alone is just looking for some shit to go down."

Nell never thought of it that way. Hell, she never even thought about that. It wasn't just military people on the base, some civilians, lots of private contractors. Probably not the best place to be walking alone, daylight or nighttime, by yourself. "Alright," was all she said, as she brushed by Mitch, leaving him laughing as she closed the door. She wasn't really sure what she thought of Captain Mitch Kramer.

* * *

Back in Los Angeles, the team was working around the clock to try and get a permanent lock on Katya Belyakov So far, no luck. Callen had gone to Arkady Kolcheck asking for a favor. Arkady, in return, asked for NCIS, in his words "catch the bitch who has ruined Russia's reputation and screwed me over." Callen wasn't that hopeful that that point anymore. Arkady was the one to come to, to be in the loop in Russian activities on US soil. Sam didn't have any more contacts to hit either. All they knew was that Katya was in Los Angeles, as her passport said so.

Deeks and Kensi had gone to the LAPD for help on the Tishenko murder. Eric and Baylee were able to prove that Victor Tishenko was in fact Katya's bodyguard. However, it was another homicide for LAPD to worry about, so they gave NCIS jurisdiction. One little problem- it was a pro hit and there was a list a mile and a half long on people wanting to whack any member of the Belyakov family. And nobody wanted to talk either, if they did witness something; they, in turn, didn't want to be whacked by the Belyakov family.

"So…we have nothing," Sam said, at around one in the afternoon. Katya was doing a good job to cover her tracks and for someone who made their living being a criminal, it was to be expected. But it usually wasn't this hard. Damn their luck.

Baylee came down the stairs. "I wouldn't be too quick to say that."

"What'd ya got?" Callen sounding a lot like Agent Gibbs, more so than he would have liked.

Baylee pulled up Katya's credit card statement on the plasma in the bull pen. "Flagged her credit card, or well, the one in her real name. And all aliases we know. However, she made a purchase at the Starbucks in Venice about thirty minutes ago. And then paid for gas at a gas station, in Venice as well, five minutes ago."

Callen was standing up. "Well, let's go."

The new intelligence analyst held up her hand. "I wouldn't be so fast. Katya isn't dumb. She is using aliases while here, ones we don't know about and haven't flagged. Why all the sudden is she using her credit card?"

"She's in trouble? She knows we have her accounts flagged," Kensi suggested.

"I think it would be easier to go to the Russian embassy or walk into a US consulate and say 'hey I want to defect to the States'. Which wouldn't happen," Deeks said.

Sam nodded. "Deeks has a point."

Baylee agreed. "It could also be an ambush. She could be waiting for us to follow the credit card statement too. Remember, she's basically a Russian assassin."

"So what to do we do?" Callen asked, directly at Bailey.

She shrugged. "We have Tishenko's burn phone but there was no calls outgoing or incoming. But, we can hope that somebody calls it."

"How's your Russian, Captain?" Callen asked, in Russian.

Baylee looked surprised and returned a phrase back. "A little rusty, but passable."

"Sorry guys, I don't understand that many foreign languages. So English would be nice," Deeks said.

Baylee laughed. "I get where Agent Callen is going with this. Whoever calls Tishenko's phone, I answer and say it's Katya. It might work."

Sam nodded. "Now we just have to wait until somebody calls it."

Callen sat back in his chair as he watched the blonde intel analyst climb up the stairs. He had looked into her background himself; she checked out. Clean as a whistle. But how did she know Russian? And she seemed really personally involved with the Belyakov case. Too involved for his liking. Why, though? That was the million dollar question.

He had to give her credit, she did her homework and she had some good theories. And she was right, what if it was an ambush? This wasn't some local street thug they were going against, they were going after a Russian citizen who had built up a family name, based on corruption, crime and deceit. Another thing- he recognized Katya Belyakov from an op a long time ago in Russia. She was on the arm of the Foreign Minister of Affairs at the time. And she certainly didn't look like the woman who had risen to the top of one of the biggest crime families in Russia.

Callen missed Nell. Right about now, she would come up with something that would point their case in a different direction, yet, get the job done. She thought outside the box. Baylee did too, but she thought a little too much outside the box for Callen's liking. Even though he hadn't seen her do that, he had a feeling she was the type to do it. The type who got intelligence from questionable people with questionable ways. Callen was no angel and he had stepped over the line in some cases, but Baylee was the type to do it on a regular basis. The thing was- it got results. Right or wrong in the method, it got results.

* * *

Baylee was taking out her contacts that night. She stared at herself in the mirror. At 27, she had more wrinkles on her face than she should have. She had a lot more experience and had seen a lot more than the average 27 year old as well. And she had a cynical view on the world, as she had dealt with criminals and terrorists basically her whole life. Baylee put her blonde hair up in a messy bun as she prepared to wipe her face free of makeup.

They hadn't gotten anywhere in the case. Katya had stopped making credit card purchases after the gas station and Baylee was a little confused. No, make that really confused. Why? As Deeks had pointed out, if she was in trouble, all she needed to do was go to the Russian embassy and she'd have protection. For Christ's sakes, she was the wife of the Russian Finance Minister. He had diplomatic immunity. Meaning she had diplomatic immunity. Their case on her had to be iron clad solid. And even at that, it was hard to do anything with her, as she had immunity.

Baylee heard her phone ring in her kitchen so she slipped her glasses on and went to go answer it. On her way, she glanced at a clock. 10 40. Who the fuck was calling at this hour? It was a blocked number but she figured she better answer it anyways. Governments tended to call on blocked numbers. "Hello?" And the next second later, she was damn glad she didn't answer it with a "Captain Baylee Walsh", as she normally did.

"Oksana, it's Katya. I know you said to never call you on this number unless it was an absolute emergency," Katya said breathlessly, in flawless Russian. Baylee had a little bit of trouble keeping up, but she caught the gist of the sentence.

"What is it?" Baylee replied in English.

"I want to defect. I need protection."


End file.
